Craiginches Read online

  HMP Aberdeen originally housed around 155 inmates and at the time was seen as state of the art. It was something different and much more progressive than its predecessors. It may have been described as a palace compared to what had come before but there was one thing for certain: the prisoners were certainly never going to be treated like royalty.

  Some of the first recorded prisoners included an infamous drunk simply called ‘Toughie’, (George Thomson) a city blacksmith who was sentenced to fifteen years for committing various assaults against his daughter between 1883 and 1891.

  ‘Toughie’ spent most of his life intoxicated and that was at the heart of his problems. He was known in and around Aberdeen for all the wrong reasons. A report from the Aberdeen Journal which was later reproduced in the Press and Journal basically summed up ‘Toughie.’

  The reproduced extract read: ‘A newspaper report of Toughie’s umpteenth appearance in court could have been scripted by the Monty Python team. The accused rattled into the dock in double time and doffing his battered “brown”, smoothed his hair and listened attentively to the complaint.’

  After the clerk had finished, Toughie, in a pleading voice, said: ‘I wish to adjourn my case to Saturday.’ That request led the rest of the court to burst into fits of laughter. Order was restored and the clerk’s response was: ‘You must plead guilty or not guilty.’ Toughie said: ‘I plead guilty.’ So the clerk told him: ‘Well, you do not require an adjournment.’ Quick as a flash the accused’s response was: ‘If you please, I do not feel well and that is the reason.’ Once again the roars of laughter could be heard round the court. The magistrate himself had clearly had enough by this point and said: ‘Really, there is no use waiting until Saturday.’ Toughie was not one to give up without a fight. He went on to have the last laugh when he said: ‘Oh, yes, I might be better on Saturday and you might be more obliging.’ The magistrate wasn’t and Toughie was sent down to become one of the first prisoners through the gates at Craiginches.

  The transportation of those initial prisoners to HMP Aberdeen was also documented in the Aberdeen Journal newspaper on 10th June 1891.

  Its published article stated: ‘Yesterday morning the prisoners in the old county jail were removed to the new prison at Craiginches. Arrangements had been made for their quiet removal and that was affected speedily and without any hitches. The “flitting” took place at three o’clock, the prisoners being conveyed to their new quarters in a bus with blinded windows, and on which the prison warders mounted guard.

  ‘Mr Rutledge, the governor, supervised the operations and a small force of police officers were also on duty, under Inspector Forbes and Sergeant Simpson. The prisoners, who numbered in all forty-three, seemed to look upon the change as an agreeable break in prison life.’

  And so life in Craiginches began.

  2

  Postal Strike Sends Me to Jail

  The infamous United Kingdom postal workers strike of 1971 was the catalyst for a major change in my career and my life. Up to that point I had been a postman in my home village of Insch in Aberdeenshire.

  The strike came to the fore over the pay and conditions of Post Office staff. The money its workers got was below the average living wage and after months and months of failed negotiations the union and the workers felt they had no choice but to go out on strike.

  It turned quite hostile and there seemed to be no short-to medium-term resolution on the horizon. The strike went on for weeks. It also meant I and my fellow postmen didn’t receive a penny in wages while the majority of the United Kingdom was left waiting for their mail, which quickly began to pile up.

  We had to survive on handouts from the union but even then it was only a fraction of the same wages that had forced us to strike in the first place. I had to try and make ends meet by doing odd jobs in and around Insch. I had a family to support, I had two young daughters, Jacqueline and Lesley, and it was a really difficult time. In the end, I felt I’d had my fill of the strike and the Post Office and I decided I needed to get another job. I just couldn’t see a way forward – the strike had left me completely sickened and out of pocket.

  I considered various career changes but I had my heart set on joining the Scottish Prison Service. It was the logical choice for me as I had already been working in the civil service. I had eleven and a half years’ service with the Post Office which I knew was completely transferable – my service and my pension. I had done my research and joining the prison service made the most sense. I have to say I didn’t really consider any other careers because I wanted to go fully down the road of the prison service to see if I could make that dream a reality. If that didn’t happen then I would have had to look elsewhere but the prison service was always going to be my first port of call.

  The good thing was that the Scottish Prison Service was also on something of a recruitment drive at that time. They were advertising for staff and I knew it was pretty much now or never.

  I had thought a lot about the financial side and stability of joining but a big thing was also my career as well. I was ambitious and I saw the prison service as a big challenge to me. It was something completely different to what I had faced up to then in my life. I had a background in sport. I also had a number of other additional qualifications which I felt I could put to full use in the prison sector. Those aspects were hugely appealing to me. I just hoped I would be as appealing to the SPS.

  There were a few negatives to the job. Prison work can be dangerous. At times you could be at risk, and then there was the change in shift patterns. Up until then, after I had posted my last letter of the day I knew I had the rest of the day to myself. If I got into the SPS I would have different shifts and would also have to work weekends. However, for me the positives far outweighed the minor negatives. It was and remained an easy decision.

  The recommendation from Dougie Ruxton also gave me an insight into what I could expect. He was a prison officer at HMP Aberdeen. His wife, Isma, was at school with me and her parents still lived in Insch at that time. They used to come out to visit her parents. I knew her parents well, being the local postman.

  Dougie was also an Insch boy (or loon). He was older than me and I had known him for most of my life. He used to play for Insch’s football team in the Donside League earlier in his career before joining the prison service.

  I was just a teenager at that point. I was still too young to play but I liked to be involved and became the unofficial kit-man (or boy!). Granny Gibson used to wash the football strips for the team. She used to stay beside me in Church Terrace in the village. So I used to pick up the big brown case of strips after she had washed and ironed them. I would then carry them to wherever the team was due to play, whether it be Kemnay, Kennethmont or Keig on a Tuesday or a Thursday night.

  I loved to go on my travels with the team, although it was a slightly easier job when they were playing at home. I used to put out all the strips in the changing room and then collect all the gear again after the game. I would then take it all back to Granny Gibson, where the whole process would start again for the next match. Dougie was a good player and I knew him from my adventures with Insch FC, while his family was also well known in the village because his dad had been a well-respected banker. They were a very prominent family within the community.

  So I went and asked Dougie’s parents-in-law if they could get Dougie to give me a shout the next time he was in Insch. I explained to them how I was thinking about joining the prison service. They were as good as gold and sure enough Dougie came round and chapped on my door. I invited him in and we had a cup of tea and I explained my situation with the Post Office and how I felt it was time for a change in direction.

  Dougie also thought the prison service would be an ideal career path for me to pursue. He understood my reasons for wanting to join and he was also very balanced and told me about things on the other side of the coin, which weren’t as appealing.

  Also if I was lucky enough to get a position at HMP Aber
deen then it would mean longer journeys into work, driving the twenty-seven miles from Insch to the Granite City. For me, it was a small price to pay. It was what I had always wanted to do and my mantra has always been: ‘You don’t know until you have tried it.’

  Dougie then turned to me and said: ‘I think you should have a go because you would like it and I am more than happy to recommend it to you.’ So I went and got the application forms, filled them in, sent them off and kept my fingers crossed.

  I then got a letter inviting me for a medical. There were five people there that day but only my future colleague, Walter Noble, and I were successful.

  We were then interviewed by senior staff and had a medical. At that point, we were told there would be no guarantees and even if we were successful then we might not get stationed at HMP Aberdeen. We could have been sent to any of Scotland’s prisons. That was the one wee negative but if that had happened then I would have just got on with it. I would have lived in digs until I could get the family sorted out. Dougie had warned me of this possibility during our chat but he’d also told me that the prison service had accommodation and put officers and their families up if they had to move further afield.

  I then got a letter that confirmed that I had been a successful candidate and they wanted to offer me a job. On top of that was the added bonus that I was going to be stationed at HMP Aberdeen. That was a huge relief. I was still at the Post Office but, ironically, the strike had been resolved and I was back on the front line with much better terms and conditions. I have to say even those improved benefits were never going to change my mind. The prison service was where I wanted to go and I was finally getting my chance. I was absolutely delighted.

  I had basically five weeks from getting the letter to my starting date. It was a bit of a whirlwind. It became more and more exciting and appealing as every day passed. I remember when I made that trip to HMP Aberdeen for the first time. I was like a kid on his way to school for the first time – not knowing what lay ahead.

  We were given a guided tour, shown the different jobs and then placed on our shift. It was as simple as that. The new starts were broken in gently with day shifts just until we got settled in and to give us time to find our feet.

  There were two divisions or shifts at that point and I was allocated to the second division. That was also the same division as Dougie Ruxton. It was good seeing a friendly face. It is quite funny, looking back, because half of that team was made up of boys like Dougie and myself who were from out in the country, from Aberdeenshire or beyond, and the other half was comprised of men from the city. I think that was a major reason there was such good harmony in the second division. We were all similar people with pretty close mindsets. Another member of our team was Scott Ogilvie, who went on to become a future governor of Craiginches and a boss of mine.

  Walter Noble was a fellow officer. He started with the prison service at the same time as me but I got three days more holidays than him because of my continued service from the Post Office. My previous guise also helped me in terms of pay. I got a little more pay than the other new recruits because of my combined service.

  I worked nearly four months in the prison before I went down to the training college at Polmont, where I did twelve weeks alongside Walter.

  It was a course to prepare you for life in the prison service. We were introduced to the rules and regulations and the standards required from ourselves. It was and still is basically a school for the prison service. The tutors got us ready for when we went back to our posts. It covered just about everything, even drug abuse, which I would have to say was never very prominent back in the early 1970s within the prison walls. There was also a lot of physical and sporting work, along with marching. It was hard work but enjoyable.

  I was even lucky enough to win the Baton of Honour at the training college. The Baton of Honour went to the top student on the course – it was the first time anyone from Aberdeen had won it. Now it was time to put my theory into practice.

  3

  The Changing Face of Craiginches

  Recently, on a bus, I overheard one woman say to another that so-and-so had been sent to prison and that it was terrible there. I am afraid that she, like many more, was under the impression that Craiginches was some sort of concentration camp where prisoners were overworked and subject to brutal conditions. May I be allowed a wee space in your columns to correct these false impressions? I have had a taste of it, so I should know.

  The original entrance to Her Majesty’s Prison Aberdeen, as you would expect, had a really imposing presence. The outside gates were made of tough English oak. You would go through those gates and be met with the gatehouse and then a second set of iron gates. Any visitors, for safety and security reasons, would then have to wait for the wooden gates to be closed before the metal gates were opened to the inner sanctum of the prison.

  You entered the main gate area, where the governor’s office was situated, along with the gate office, staff muster area and the officers’ staffroom. On the other side next to the governor’s office was a waiting room and visiting area.

  The original main building, which was constructed in 1891, remained intact and central throughout the life of Craiginches.

  The prison was broken into two main halls – A and B.

  The A Hall housed mainly locally convicted prisoners over its three galleries or levels. They also held a number of prisoners who were serving sentences of eighteen months or more.

  B Hall also had three galleries. It housed untried adults, males under twenty-one and convicted young offenders until they were transferred to the Young Offenders Institution at Polmont. Those over twenty-one were kept mainly on the second floor, while the others remained on the other levels.

  Both halls were modernised through time as were various other aspects of the prison, as they had to adapt to an ever-changing outside world.

  One of the main issues and talking points of British prison life has been slopping out. Craiginches was an old Victorian period prison that didn’t always have internal sanitation and toilets for each cell so the inmates had no option but to slop out. That was the way it was and the prisoners just had to get on with it.

  Each prisoner was given a pot with a lid on it which they had to use for the toilet when they were locked up in their cells. The prisoners would come out every morning to the public urinal and empty and clean their pots. There they would find all the disinfectants, cleaners and brushes that were needed to clean the pots.

  When the £1 million sanitation project was brought into Craiginches in the 1980s that was definitely a major step forward, although I would say that it was probably too late in coming. They did all the work to modernise the prison yet a few decades later it was flattened to rubble. I think what counted against Craiginches and the old Peterhead prison was that they were so old. The buildings were tired and antiquated and there was very little else the Scottish Prison Service could do to prolong their lifespans.

  Toilets and wash-hand basins were put into just about every cell. It was a major change. You have to remember when the prison was first built there were six large baths installed and that was seen as more than adequate for the inmates. Could you imagine that now?

  You hear the people now say how slopping out is against people’s human rights. Granted, it wasn’t nice but it was a sign of the times and it was also a prison. You now hear all these former prisoners who are looking to try and sue because they felt their human rights had been impinged. That is a joke. A lot of these people are at it. They are just trying to play the system and looking to profit from it at the same time. They see it as an avenue they can latch on to and try to get free or easy money from. It is frustrating, especially as the money could be put to so many other different uses.

  Another major project at Craiginches was to install something else that people outside of prison take for granted – simple heating.

  Prior to heated cells the prisoners had to make do with extra blankets to
get them through the long winter nights. It was pretty simplistic.

  I remember when the authorities started the heating project. The installation was a major job. The biggest problem was getting it into every cell because the contractors basically had to drill through the thick walls to get the piping for the heating through. I remember that was a major headache because they were basically trying to drill holes through pure granite. A lot easier said than done. They were about two feet thick and when they first started their drills were hardly making a mark.

  During each project, like the heating and sanitation, there was major upheaval in the prison. Inmates had to be moved and temporarily rehoused while their allotted cell was worked on.

  During that time we had to double up prisoners in some cells. That wasn’t really common policy unless it was in the large communal cell, which was Number 1-18. That could easily hold five or six prisoners.

  I know that when the prison was modernised with heating and sanitation the inmates saw it as a major step forward and both additions as great luxuries compared to what they had been used to in the past.

  I remember I really felt we had moved into the twenty-first century when we had the electric gates installed at the prison entrance.

  The new gatehouse still had two gates but it was a lot easier to open and close. I suppose it did make the prison that bit more secure, although to get through the gates you still had to go through the same process as before – opening one gate and closing it before you opened the inner gate. We also used to send an officer out whenever the gates were opened to check who and what was coming into the prison and then escort them through another inner gate and into the prison to wherever they were going.